HELP WANTED

We had a hamster named Dixie. She came home from Ryann's this summer after Ryann had been hamster-sitting, and she just wasn't the same animal. She had been tossed up so high by one strong, "yittle" boy that she hit the ceiling , but no-that wasn't it. After about a week I cleaned her cage (you're supposed to clean it twice a week, but I was neglectful, busy, uncaring, and unfeeling to name a few) and what a different rodent. She played! She exercised! She had a renewed interest in life. It was amazing. So why am I blogging about a depressed hamster in a dirty cage? I was just wondering if someone out there would come and clean my cage? Please.


*I feel that it is important to note that Dixie escaped from her cage and was never heard from again. She didn't want to live in the messy cage, or the messy house. I don't blame her...perhaps a bit of envy every now and then. I try not to dwell though--I mean, she is a hamster.

All I need to know I learned in Primary

Just thought I would share an epiphany, that actually could be a Primary song hiding somewhere in the recesses of my mind: Kindness begins with me.
If I am kind to my children, they will be kind to each other and more importantly to me :).
Yes, I get that you already knew this, but I saw it in action today and I am hooked. Its gonna be different around here, I can promise you that.

Let us dispense with this useless endeavor

I hear Effie's cries from her bedroom. I do not check. Its quiet time. She wasn't obeying...I don't care why she is hurt. Okay. Perhaps this is a bit too natural woman of me, but am I the only one who has no tolerance for shenanigans gone wrong during periods of disobedience? Her cries are now intermittent, still a plea for me to check on her so that she can gain sympathy where none exists. Feeling a bit softer, I will go.

I enter. She sees me, begins to sob, "I hurt myself." "I can see that you did" and I help her climb up into bed; I assume she slipped since I did not ask. She shows me her leg, which I kiss, though see no evidence of injury. I ask her to rest until its time to take Ava to ballet. All is well. All is quiet. For now.

I hear her wind chimes. She bought them at the Maritime Museum in San Diego this summer as a Father's Day present for Jason. Then insisted they hang in her room, next to her top-bunk bed. Perhaps we will have no quiet time after all. Again.

I insist upon this ritual- one hour of quiet time every day. My anger grows as I seek to enforce my will upon them. It would be easier to let them watch a movie every afternoon; more would actually fall asleep, more would be quiet. Why do I bother? Upon examination I am not sure. Will reevaluate and determine why I feel I need this time away from them, besides the fact that I feel I need some time away from them.

The quiet time cd just ended. It is actually quiet; two out of four asleep. Unfortunately, quiet time is over and I need to get everyone ready for a trip to town and for Ava to go to ballet. Like I said, perhaps time to reevaluate and redirect my efforts.

I can't help thinkin this is how it ought to be

Effie informed me a few days ago that she is still Taylor Swift. I asked her why she told she wasn't and in a round about way she told me that she needed exactly two days of not being TaylorSwift so that she could continue being TaylorSwift. This is the same logic she was using when a minute ago I told her that she is cute and she told me no she isn't, she is a human. She then recognized that one could be both, however she is not. That's a four year old for you. Sorry for the false alarm.

The reason for the teardrops on my guitar

Effie announced yesterday that she is "not Taylor Swift anymore." Without rhyme or reason. I am quite at a loss as to where this will take us. Some background for those who aren't in the know, she loves TaylorSwift, wears her hair like TaylorSwift, dresses like TaylorSwift (the repetitive nature of the name is taken from real life), sings all of TaylorSwift's song, preforms concerts as TaylorSwift, has been to a TaylorSwift concert with her daddy (hurray for scalpers), and actually looks like TaylorSwift. And note the one word-TaylorSwift- this is how Effie says it every time, usually accompanied with a twang, a shake of the hair (learned at the concert, where Effie discovered that "TaylorSwift is in this world!!!" ), and a twist of the bottom. Very sassy indeed.

She has been a little tired lately, which might explain this sudden disinterest. However, if this is a real break-up, I am a bit staggered by the blow. I wait to see where we will be lead by this little girl in search of something new. Jason and I will miss our TaylorSwift, and he will miss Taylor Swift I am sure, as his devotion was comparable to Effie's. It started with "Our Song" has ended with "You Belong With Me" and has encompassed every song in between-thanks Miss Swift, for a few great years and wonderful memories. I really thought it would last.

And when you find everything you looked for

I hope your life leads you back to my door

Oh, but if it don't, stay beautiful

T.S.

I can't change who I am-but should we discuss it?

I am somewhat reticent concerning my familial matters when it comes to those outside the trust tree, as it were. So I am therefore hesitant to attend my ten year reunion which is taking place homecoming weekend. I live in the same town with many friends from HS, and abstain from furthering relationships with these individuals, as the differences in our lifestyles have become so great. It was the fourth child. Then the homeschool. No one can relate in that set. The nodding of the head when I answer 'Are you finished having children?' with 'No, not at all' coupled with the glazed look, then disgust when I follow up with 'No he isn't in kindergarten, he's homeschooled.' can be too much at times. And going, I feel would be subjecting myself to this deluge without a friendly or sympathetic face in sight. Unless Jason goes too, but really what fun would he have? We are talking small town kids here and these people are only biding their time until its late enough to get plastered-God love em. I sound a bit negative, however I will say that individually I love, or at least really like, these HS friends, and can dialogue about my life easily one on one. I just think I would freeze or worse-if my lifestyle became in any way a focus for discussion. I wonder if gay people have an easier time coming out. That is what I will be doing, if I go. I will come out as a mother of a large family, homeschooler, and Mormon to boot-they all know that but the reminder will add to my kookiness I'm sure. So I guess what I am saying, is that I am not sure I am ready to come out. But then again I am not ashamed. So where does that leave me. Comments appreciated.

This month is such a special one, its...time to learn how to program Jason's phone

My husband has a Blackberry. Purchased because for his line of work, you just cannot carry around a planner- job sites and what-not. It was a necessity. He would have his schedule, phone, Internet---all right there. Had to have it. So now this is a man who has projects scheduled weeks in advance-he's the annoying guy that calls to remind you a few days before, and then again when he is on the way to make sure its all going according to the plans. This is the man who forgot my birthday. He got a phone call from his mother-I will let you read between the lines and try not to go off on the fact that for her to let her son fail is beyond her capacity and as you can see I have some really deep issues about the whole thing-see I said I wouldn't digress so back on task---reminding him that is was my birthday today and that he shouldn't forget. Too late, Gloria. He forgot. I knew, he knew. He had the decency to at least tell me that she had to remind him, when he called late this morning. I could go on but really why. After six years of marriage, Jason forgot my birthday. Not just today (obviously I will go on), but completely. There is no card or present. Just an apology and a resolve to do better. Oh, and him asking me what I want for my birthday. Right. That says it all.
*But I am not mad, not even hurt. He asked me last week if Reno's birthday was coming up so that tells me two things: One- he was thinking at least that something was going on soon, so I will give him two points for that. Two- Reno's birthday, November 21st, is Jason's birthday as well,so if you could in a round about way forget your own birthday, then I had no hope from the start. Really, I knew he was going to forget so instead of being mad, I just think what a good wife I am for never forgetting his birthday, Father's Day, etc.

Proof that I have a heart

My friend Tess had her first child on Tuesday. She was at church today, a mere five days after delivery, and I asked her how Laevry was doing at night. She then told me not good, and spoke about each night, as there have only been a few at home. It was very sweet and I started thinking about how when you first have a baby, each day is such an event. You mark time by diapers and feedings. Each night is its own entity. You compare how he did tonight with last night. Slept more, slept less, pooped at 2 am, didn't poop until morning. Then in RS when I asked if there was anyone who had had an uplifting experience this week, she naturally raised her hand and spoke of the fact that you cannot have a baby without acknowledging that there is a God. She spoke of the miracle that her baby is and what ready-made love she has for her. It was really awesome to see a new mother go through that revelation that can come only after you have your baby. And I was grateful to be able to remember exactly what she was talking about since Levis only 3 months old. And here is my epiphany: whether its your first or your fourth, its still miraculous and such powerful thing. I was very callous all through my pregnancy about how its my fourth and no big deal. I am pleasantly surprised that it is a big deal. A major deal. Still. And I am grateful for it all.
*This will be the only post of its kind as I am generally void of such inclinations to voice tenderness and love. This blog is not meant to be sappy. I was just touched today. I promise, it won't happen again.

James Brown is the only soul man I know

For those who are waiting to find out if Jason grew a soul patch in an effort to endear himself to me ... ... ... he did not. I asked him moments ago what happened to his promise. Blank stare. Finally, "I forgot." There you have it.

Welcome to the Schroeder's (clothing optional)

A naked story
Once there was a couple doing their finances in the living room while checking out the window on their oldest three children who were playing with the hose on the trampoline. In their underwear. All is well, as it is summertime in Texas and skivvies are the attire of most people on most days. Or maybe that's just us. Like I said, all was well. Then the mother noticed the plumbers had arrived to fix the toilet that had backed up into the tub, unexpectedly- the tub toys could not be salvaged, thanks for checking. She cringed as she remembered the cabinets that her husband had ripped off the laundry room wall the day before, also unexpectedly, were laying in ruins in the grass next to the front steps. And also the camping gear from last week's trip was stacked haphazardly on the picnic table. She felt a bit like those people who live with filth all around them, you know the ones whose homes actually look like they are abandoned and then you see the owners still in their nightclothes and wonder what they think as they walk past that stuff every day for years and years-I digress-- and was hesitant to actually face the plumbers. Then she opened the door. Oh good. Effie and Ava were already on the front porch to greet them. Nakedly. Jimas and all. Then the mother felt a bit worse than those people she was thinking about only moments before, because at least they all had their clothes on. The end.

Actually there is no end to this story, because tomorrow it will be the mail lady, or the UPS man. And now that I recollect, the Schwann's guy has seen them all in various states of undress. There is something to be said for parents who can keep clothing on their children.

We can't get no satisfaction

Reno, who has been in bed for over an hour, just told Jason that the reason he needed another snack was that he had been fasting all day. Not so much little man. But do you think there are people out there who want their kids to fast? I sure hope not. Another question. Does fasting still count when it is followed by gluttony? And really, how many Oreos are too many? Perhaps just leave your answers to yourself. Thanks.

Pardon my rant

All right. So I got all set to surprise Jason and Effie with Taylor Swift concert tickets- its a daddy/daughter thing, and the cheapest seats in Dallas are $130 each, all the way up to $1175. I have to say that I have a renewed respect for Miss Swift if people are paying that much to see the show. Needless to say, my money will be spent elsewhere, but am disappointed nonetheless. Which brings me to another point. I really don't understand much about socialism in action, but will shortly I suppose, and was wondering if under our new president's rule should we somehow be entitled to see concerts, sporting events, ballets, etc. at a sliding pay scale rate? Or perhaps with certain welfare-type concerts for those of us who can't afford tickets but are entitled as Americans to go? No? Perhaps I am off the deep end, but if they are going to take radio away from us, and everything else is going socialized, and if music will be too, someday in the future, I just wish it would be now so they could see her. Like I've said before though, down with the man.

*Also, green hair pic did not show enough green to make it worth the effort it takes to load it on the page.

Enough is too much

This is in reference to the pool. We have been in hotels 10 of the past 17 nights. That means that the majority of those days we were stuck in the hotel and therefore in the pool. I am not exaggerating, Effie's hair is green. I will post a picture tomorrow when I can get one with the sun on it. This life has its pros and cons, which I won't bore you with except this one. Picture bedtime. Levi's fussing so we can't turn the lights off and bed down ourselves, even though we are exhausted. So with a lamp on we read our scriptures, write in our journals, yell at them once again to lay down, stop playing, get your foot off your sister, and so forth and so forth and so forth. The primary program cd on repeat does nothing to induce sleepiness, or the spirit for those of us trying and failing to concentrate on Mormon's words. Seriously, I can remember nothing from what I have read lately. Also, Reno just said "We have a head-egg from that music." Me too little man. Jason has just asked me to go over there and beat them. Although in all reality, we battle this sort of bedtime insubordination no matter where we are, it just makes it harder to ignore when they are ten feet away.
This just happened. Reno started oinking. I started snickering to myself as Jason stood up "looking for his belt." Effie recognizes what he is doing and belts out "Everyone, hide your butts." An hour after we started this and there is no end in sight. I repeat, enough is too much.
**No Schroeder's were injured in the making of this blog.**

If you ever plan to motor west...

Home sweet home here in Tucumcari, New Mexico! Yes, this is night three in our by now quite soiled hotel room. We twice have opted not to have housekeeping services, only towels, thinking that in a few hours we would be free. Twice that was a mistake-- I will not describe things in detail, only trust that clean white sheets are no match for nacho cheese Doritos, chocolate, and Ava. The kids are happy, with an average of three swims a day, coupled with lots of t.v. and fast food. The repair man--we broke down here in the parking lot of McDonald's and the Holiday Inn Express, and a few other hotels, restaurants, and gas stations Sunday night on our trip to San Diego for those not up to speed-- ordered the wrong part yesterday, discovered it this afternoon, and will have a new part tomorrow, we hope. But we are in high spirits and look forward to tomorrow's events with great anticipation. Until then, listen to John and think of us. All hail the Mother Road.

We are tired of the pirate look.

Who is this kid? Seriously though. Three more months of this, and then glasses, and then perhaps surgery. No end in sight.

School's out for-ever!!

Life after number four? I don't know yet because we haven't had an opportunity to have a normal schedule with my mom helping, and now his parents visiting. This I will say: thus far, its a nightmare, or at least a dream I'd like to wake up from. He has colic, and each day brings a change in his patterns. He is totally unpredictable. I have welcomed fatigue back into my life, a lost friend. I thought I was tired when I was pregnant, but having a newborn takes it to a new level--the bonus round perhaps. Once our visitors leave, we will resume our lives, however we will start our new unschooling program. This is exciting because it means learning while living, not so much me teaching lessons and lecturing and pressuring and then eventually me being frustrated and losing it, as has been witnessed in past homeschool attempts. So an all new approach. A new start. I have high hopes. I am also grateful to live in a state that will not regulate our efforts. Down with the man. Wish us luck.

A curse on Eve... I shoulda thought this through

I am usually pretty tough. Seriously. But this pregnancy has knocked my down. I constantly hurt, and complain-see Jason for validation of this- and am just generally miserable. I tried to talk my doctor into taking the baby early, but he refused because he is cruel, although he did say something about the health of the baby but I am sure that is a plot to further torture me. And also, my hips feel like... well its indescribable really. Plus, sweating at night? That is just gross, but its happening. Not to mention all the unmentionables--they are even worse. Please remind me of all these complaints in six or seven months when we are ready to have another go at parenthood. Really. I will have forgotten this personal hell. Obviously or I would not be here now.

All dogs go to heaven... and some through hell

Will it ever end for Fritz? Being given away twice, losing two wives, attacked by a bobcat, and now this? Thursday night he was bitten by a snake, and though the vet assured us it wasn't a rattlesnake, it was poisonous and he is at present fighting for his life. Perhaps it will end for Fritz. Very disturbed at the whole situation. How am I to let the kids play outside with venomous snakes on the loose? And especially with a dog that is really not a fighter in the first place, not to mention recently wounded. If he makes it to begin with. Not that I am being callous about his survival; I am just trying to be realistic as he is taking shallow breaths and lethargy is setting in. So I will leave off with a prayer in my heart for a little dog who has been a wonderful friend for our family.


Side note: These are copperheads, another venomous snake native to our area. May or may not have been Fritzy Boy's foe, but we tend to think so. Also, the vet said it was a baby snake that bit him. How reassuring is that?

I'm quite certain you missed me

Perhaps I should give this up. However, now that I have a computer, albeit at Jason's office, it is permanent so I have no excuse for another hiatus. I unfortunately have no news to report. Homeschooling is going about like I thought, or just a bit worse. I have yet to settle on an approach in our efforts, but am very interested in the Montessori and unschooling methods. Montessori schools discourage the computer though, and as that is Reno's favorite part of the day, we will not likely be die-hard. But then was I ever? About anything, besides perhaps dessert? And another thing. I am about done with winter. Thats all. Nothing grand.